A mess of random
* Death flu update: On DAY EIGHT, I finally have my voice back, no more squeaky laughing or hacking in the middle of a sentence. And I re-weighed myself and was down five pounds instead of up four, which is great news and naturally means I just spent the last five minutes eating mini Chips Ahoy cookies.
* OK, so the answer to the multiple-choice question was a very lame none of the above. I did, however, read all about the Khloe Kardashian wedding, get stuck behind a very angry little man who drove 15 mph and very nearly caused me to lose my mind and sort of START catching up on the DVR (I mostly caught up while I was sick, and of course I'm already falling behind again). I am LOVING Modern Family, you have to watch it. And I do like FlashForward--some of the dialogue is a little corny, but I like it.
* I got a really good review at work. I forgot to tell my mom so I am telling you.
* I have had this totally insatiable appetite for ridiculous music the last couple of days, which I blame on Miley Cyrus and that ubiquitious, completely catchy song of hers that comes on every single time I get in the car. So what am I doing right now? I'll tell you what I'm doing, and then we'll never talk about it again. I am actually sitting here listening to a Hannah Montana song on YouTube. HANNAH MONTANA. Let me reiterate that I am not the mother of an 8-year-old girl, nor am I the aunt, older sister, guardian or next-door neighbor of one. And yet here I am, belting this thing out like I'm auditioning for American Idol. My friend's daughters used to sing this song all the time, and it would totally get stuck in my head and then I'd botch the lyrics and they'd get totally exasperated with me, because I am clearly not as cool (see every sentence of this paragraph) as I pretend to be. (By the way, between that and stuff like this, I am experiencing severe sixth-grade nostalgia. It is just way too fun and angsty to be a girl sometimes.)
* Anyway, so that song? It's called "If We Were a Movie," which reminds me of a story I was going to tell. So I stumbled across this guy's blog a few weeks ago, super randomly, and he was all, Friday Night Lights is so great, (500) Days of Summer is so great and I was like, hello! Been there, done that, let's see what else he loves that I love. So I scroll down, and there are pictures of him and I'm like, hold on one hot little second, I KNOW THIS GUY. And sure enough, I scroll down a little more, and it turns out we went to the same college.
So THEN I jump on Facebook and put in his name (since it's all over his blog) and would you look at that, four common friends. OBVIOUSLY we took a class together or lived in the same dorm or majored in the same thing or something, but I cannot figure it out and it's driving me nuts, so instead of obsessing about it or being all stalky about it on his blog, I decide to send him a note.
Me: So. Hi. I stumbled across your blog a little while ago, I don't remember how (maybe because we share an appreciation for the greatest TV show ever created), and then I was like, wait, do I know this person? I think I vaguely know this person. And it is sort of driving me a little bit nuts trying to figure it out.
(And then I ask him if he lived in the same dorm that I did.)
He replies that he didn't live there, but he did live on the same floor freshman year as a guy we're both friends with. I say, oh, I knew him at the end of college and then we took jobs in the same city, so that can't be it, and then I ask him if he majored in communications. He says no, he majored in English. I say, well, I would be a horrible Law and Order detective, wouldn't I?
This is the part of the story where he makes some joke back and then we're like, OK, well, let's be friends anyway even if we can't figure it out because we both live fairly near each other in cities TWO THOUSAND MILES from where we both went to college, we know some of the same people, why not be friends? And then maybe we decide to meet for lunch at some cute cafe one crisp fall afternoon, and he decides to bring his newly single, ready to mingle roommate with him (because falling in love with the first guy would be a little too tidy of an ending, and we're trying to avoid cliche storylines here) and Other Guy has never met a girl like me in his entire life. And who knows, maybe I turn into Julia Roberts or Meg Ryan and he turns into Richard Gere or Tom Hanks and we go on to earn $100 million at the box office thanks to legions of girls like me.
But NO. No, that did not happen, because MY LIFE IS NOT A MOVIE, unless you count one in which there are plenty of spiders and possibly a strain of a rare, life-threatening disease. That was where it ended, with me making a Law and Order joke. IS THAT NOT THE LAMEST THING EVER? I didn't even find out how I KNOW the guy!
I totally wish I could script life. It would be SO AWESOME. Even if the soundtrack WAS sort of cheesy.